


A Classmate

by timidcat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Cigarettes, Fluff and Smut, Heteronormativity, Homosexuality, Internalized Homophobia, Light-Hearted, M/M, Male Slash, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Romance, Short, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timidcat/pseuds/timidcat
Summary: Terrence is suffocating in his perfect, privileged, lonely life. But then, during yet another high school reunion, former classmate Navin shows up. Right in time to challenge everything Terrence though he knew about himself. The question is, will Terrence pursue his instincts or stay in his comfortable, lonely life?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

“Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” I smiled brightly in my pose for the picture, with Lewis, Zackary and Ben’s arms around me, Lewis and Ben making a peace sign, all with their infectious smiles that fueled mine.

The camera flashed and I continued to drink my frothy beer; my only pint for the night, because I had to drive myself home. At a strong gust of chilly breeze I wrapped my maroon coat tighter around myself. I also didn’t drink too much because I didn’t want to stain it. Still the chilly breeze ruffled my strawberry blond hair and fell just short of freezing my ears off.

When I put my hand in my pocket to protect it from the cold, I felt my latest fancy toy and brought it out to check the time.

Lewis gasped in astonishment even though it wasn’t the first time he’d seen it. “Can I see can I see it can I see it?” he begged, and I tried to let everyone see as much as possible, getting everyone to peek over my shoulders curiously.

“Look you can set the time and date, it’s got some games; pong, chess and cards.” I let my friends’ hands near me press a few buttons of the novel object.

“Can I use it to call my Ma?” Ben asked.

“Sure.” I put it on call and gave it to Ben. He pressed the numbers and held the phone to his ear with a delighted smile. “Hi Ma, it’s me. I’m callin’ from one o’ those new phones.”

We let Ben talk to his mother as we continued joking around under the gazebo. The lights swaying in the breeze and the rustling bushes and blossoms on the trees made for a fragrant evening. The fancy garden was mostly used for wedding receptions. Of course this was no wedding, this was my seventh high school reunion, to count seven years since the last time we sat near each other on desks.

Ben lowered the phone, smiling. “Damn I wish I could get one o’ these things but my wallet says no.”

“Maybe if you get into a stock market job like me your boss could give you one for free,” I smirked. Life was good. I had many friends both old and new, I was doing my master’s, I worked part-time, I volunteered in community projects, I had my own car. And I had a cell phone!

Yes, life was indeed great. But still there was something missing, a corner in my life that remained empty, waiting to be filled by something. And sometimes that empty corner, even though just a corner, threatened all the other parts of me with its emptiness, threatened to drain them from all meaning.

In fact something did threatened to ruin my night. Through the haze of laughter and lights I focused my sight on a newspaper left on the wood of the gazebo. I went to it to pick it up. In the dim light I made out the title.

‘War Erupts Again in Former Yugoslavia, Slobodan Milosevic Clamps Down on Kosovo.’ Dated 26th March 1999. The article nearly ruined my morning coffee earlier that day.

“Yo Terence.” Zachary pulled the gang’s attention to me again. But just then a waiter came over to offer us some appetizers again, I declined. “We’re thinkin’ of doin’ a new year’s party with a countdown. The year two thousand! It’s gonna be a blast!”

“Sure sign me up!” I smiled back.

There weren’t a lot of people at that hour, ten-thirty. Maybe about fifteen left from my grade of ninety people? Besides, many only stayed a short while. Some stopped coming after a certain year, some skipped a year or two.

And then, outside the gate on the driveway, I saw the impossible.

His clothes were of a dark palette, blending with the darkness around him. But I could see he wore some simple jeans and a black vintage biker jacket. I had to partially draw from my memory to correctly identify that the pale face and black hair against the dim light. His face had changed, grown.

But there was no doubting his identity: Navin Broser. A name I heard called out many times in my distant high school days, mostly for the wrong reasons.

He’d dropped off the radar after high school, never showed up to a single reunion. Until now.

The young man looked about to enter the fancy premises, but hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets and shuffling around. He didn’t look appropriately dressed for the weather or the occasion. Maybe he decided to come at the last moment.

But he did enter the gardens, where he waved off the drinks and snacks offered by the waiters as he met with the party guests.

“Hey is that Navin?” I pointed with my beer glass, still in shock by his sudden reappearance after years. He didn’t even come to graduation day. Maybe not surprising given the grades he probably got.

I watched as he accepted a conversation with the first person he happened to run into: class bully turned gentleman, but still a bit of a bully, Bruno Shultz.

“Oh yeah. He looks so different. Looks like he finally got a personality,” Ben laughed, and I made a little hesitant laugh not to seem odd. I knew what he referred to. Everyone had known Navin as a meek and shy kid who preferred to isolate himself in the school bathrooms. He isolated himself so good that he rarely got bullied actually, just gossiped about behind his back. And in that moment it looked like his lack of social skills, or his bad reputation, or both, still chained him as he floated from one person to the next, exchanging a few sentences before the two parties drifted into awkward silence.

But I could agree with Ben that he’d grown a nice sense of fashion.

From what I saw he really did try to engage, but awkwardness on all parts drove home the pointlessness of coming. He looked at me a few times as if searching for something in my gaze, and I tried to find a window of opportunity to go out of my comfort zone and talk to him. But in the end he became frustrated at the lack of engagement and started heading to the gate. My mind rebelled, and before me flashed all those times over the years when I could have struck a conversation but didn’t.

“No no,” I mumbled. ‘Please don’t leave’ my mind cried. I downed the rest of my beer and told my friends: “I gotta get going. Wonderful party as always. Can’t wait to see you on New Year’s!”

“Bye! Bye Terence!” They waved as I strode in Navin’s steps, drawing my coat tighter.

As I made it to the large iron gate I saw him light a cigarette. I came into his circle and stopped. We stared a bit at each other awkwardly, our breath vaporising in the cold night air, the smoke from Navin’s cigarette quite thick. But I realised Navin didn’t have the same awkwardness he’d displayed as a teenager. That had turned into a more confident and experimental uncertainty. Before me was a boy turned man, and he was trying to wing it, to bluff and act like he knew what to do.

“Hi,” he greeted with a cold tone, and took a drag of his cigarette, expecting me to continue. That’s when I realised two things: he was shorter than me, but had filled out into a broad figure. The smoke distracted me too with its distinct smell. What a smell. What was it? Cherry!

“Hi. Um…..didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I thought I should come at least once.”

I made a little nod. “Yeah. It’s good to keep up with old friends.”

He snorted and took another drag of cigarette. “Bruno’s still a dickhead. Gave me shit for the way I dressed. Called me an Emo. I’m no Emo or Goth I just dress how I want.” He brought the cigarette back to his lips.

That prompted me to look him over carefully, his appearance captivating me. The cool vintage aesthetic, the cherry-flavoured cigarette between his lips, his nonchalance and climbing confidence. It just did not match the shy and meek boy I once knew. I still had to process this change. One thing that stayed with me however, was our sheer difference in shoes; his rugged and plain, and mine shiny and new. Gentleman’s shoes.

I went out with: "I didn’t know you smoked,” unconsciously hoping to find clues about what motivated these changes.

“Yeah, people smoke. Of course I changed, thank God.” This time he looked me up and down. “You don’t look like you changed one bit. You must be in university by now right? Unless you’re having a life crisis.”

“Yeah I’m- I’m doing my master’s, business studies.” I could sense that our paths after high school had diverged and I started to feel a bit guilty about my good fortune and privilege. I put my hands in my pockets, shy. “I’m sorry I didn’t come talk to you before, I found you a little intimidating.”

He smirked at that and took another drag. “Why? Do you have something to hide?” he joked, a little dryly.

I made a little laugh at the gesture, but my smile soon dropped. I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “Um……I kinda regret all those years when I never picked a conversation with you, or defended you for that matter.”

Navin seemed to be deep in thought with the bright cigarette against his lips. He looked at the ground as he spoke, kicked a little stone. “No worries. You were right to stay away. You were perfect……aspiring and diligent. I was a nobody going nowhere, and everyone would’ve given you shit for being with me.”

A little astonishment seized me. He called me perfect, while establishing himself as a failure. I stared at his pale skin, strong jaw and cheeks moving as he talked. It captivated me completely. I’d never heard so much as a word come out of him during my school days, and now we were mutually talking, and he revealed a little more about himself in every sentence and gesture.

And those brown eyes, the most intense pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen. They held more energy than I’d ever seen in him.

I put my cold hands into my coat pockets again, and realised how Navin shivered a little. That jacket wasn’t appropriate for this level of cold. “But now things are different. We’re more mature now. Well everyone except Bruno but you get my point. There’s nothin’ sayin’ we shouldn’t be friends.” I hitched my shoulders to communicate my transparency.

“You wanna be friends?”

‘Yes I would very much like that’ my mind quipped. What was up with me tonight? This suddenly felt like an exchange between seven-year-olds. “Sure. We could…..hang out somewhere else. Party’s pretty much over.” I looked over to the dwindling, quieting party hidden behind the trees and bushes of the large garden.

“Alright,” he nodded, and then snuffed out his cigarette against the wall. “I know a nice place close by.” Energy now seemed to be reaching more places inside him, making his dark eyes glow with something secretive.

“Sounds great,” I smiled, and we both moved to start walking. But I paused. “Wait.” I brought out my phone. “I need to let my mom know or she’ll worry.”

“Woah! You got a phone?” Navin awed, and bent down a little to take a closer look.

“It’s technically for work. My boss gave it to me for free. Sometimes they call me in the middle of the night…...”

“It’s still cool.”

I dialed my house number. “Hi mom, just letting you know I’m stayin’ out with a friend.” As soon as I’d said that word I immediately became conscious of its work in progress. We weren’t friends yet. So I purposely shuffled away from Navin and his possible reaction. And after getting the okay from my mother slipped the phone back in my pocket.

“Alright. I am ready to gooo…”

“Ready to drink?” Navin smiled. The first real smile I’d seen on him.

“Well I’m driving so I’ll just stick with beer.”

We started on towards the heart of the city, our shoes squishing on wet asphalt.


	2. Chapter 2

We traversed the vibrant streets of New Jersey for some minutes, wet with the earlier rain and lights and neon signs reflecting on the wet asphalt. Bars, cafes, pizza places and brick buildings lined the roads. Dirt and car exhaust decorated the vibrant nightlife with a little bit of grit.

Navin didn’t talk much, something that I suspected came from his personality at that moment. Without many words he led me to a bar called ‘High’s Lows’. One of those very casual, ‘everything goes’ sort of places with a rainbow of light bulbs decorating the entrance and a defiance of the recent smoking ban.

Now in his natural habitat, Navin confidently strode across the room thick with cigarette smoke, and went right up to the counter. His and the barman’s face connected in that way where people casually know each other. “A Gin and Tonic for me please. Terence what are you having? Don’t worry it’s on me.”

“Gin and Tonic too. No I’ll pay.” 

“No I invited you.”

“But I proposed it in the first place,” I insisted. I couldn’t let him pay when the probability was that I made more than him.

Navin threw up his hand in light frustration. “Fine we can decide later. What happened to just sticking with beer?”

“I changed my mind,” I said, shrugging with a smile. 

Both of us picked up our glasses once they slid across the counter. Awkwardness and uncertainty surfaced again as we stood with our drinks in hand. My eyes flickered to Navin’s left hand holding the glass. A tattoo slithered out from underneath his sleeve and rested on his pale hand. It piqued my curiosity. I wanted to see the whole of it.

But I didn’t want to be caught staring so I looked around a little bit, taking in the environment. A Southern tune played on the radio. Besides the casualness, many of the patrons felt at home and sported their alternative fashion; leather jackets, studs, black clothes and dyed hair. Tattoos. I could see why Navin liked it here. He fit in here.

Meanwhile, I clearly stood out of place, me with my fancy coat and shoes among rugged blacks and greys.

“Do you wanna play pool? Cards, chess?” Navin asked unsurely.

“Um, chess would be nice. I never learned to play cards,” I later admitted.

Navin started leading me to a table in the corner. “Oh that’s too bad. You should let me teach you.”

“Heh. Another time. It’s pretty embarrassing I know.” We sat on the comfortable seats and I picked up the chess box from the windowsill.

“We all have our quirks. Personally I never figured out how to whistle.”

I paused from setting up the chess pieces, unable to contain my surprise. “Really? When did you try last? Maybe if you tried now-“

“No,” he said, curt and bashful at the same time before taking a sip of his drink.

“Come on try,” I encouraged.

Navin’s eyes looked up, thinking of a tune to guide him, and he really did try, but fell just short. “Nope. Can’t do it. It’ll be hilarious if I go my entire life not knowin’ how to whistle.”

“Look on the bright side: if you put it on your tombstone you’ll be the talk of the cemetery!”

Navin laughed heartily with me, and I really appreciated that I managed to make him laugh. We scrambled to get the pieces on the chessboard. We ended up arranging white for my side and black troops for him.

Navin took another sip of his Gin and landed it a bit hard on the table. “Let us play.”

I smiled back and drank from my glass before setting a pawn forward.

I had a good offense going before Navin destroyed all my bishops and knights. Before he took my last bishop, he placed a finger on his chin in thought, and then with a sly smirk replaced my white soldier with his black one. And then he finished his third Gin and Tonic and set it down to accentuate his resilience in the art of chess and the art of drink. I had barely started my second glass and a warm fog was already dulling my mind.

I thought to myself: ‘If I stuck with beer maybe I would have had a better chance of winning. I should stop’. “I think we can call the winner now.” I reached my hand across the board for him to claim victory.

Navin looked slightly astonished at my cowardice. “Not yet not yet! Your king and queen are still standing. You never know if things’ll turn in your favour.”

“Navin?” a voice interrupted, and I looked up to see a guy with long blond hair and a leather jacket. His bright smile proved infectious. “Who did you drag in from the street today?” he asked in a shrill, high-pitched voice, that kind of voice that definitely got him bullied in school.

Navin looked a bit embarrassed. “Jerry, can you not? Just for today? This is my high school buddy and we’re trying to get to know each other.”

The young man’s face changed, turned astonished. “Oh!” he gasped. His gaze turned secretive. “Then I’ll leave you to it.” I watched him closely as he left. Such a secretive look he had, as if he knew something about us that I didn’t. How could he know something about us that I didn’t know?

Navin looked embarrassed at the encounter. “Sorry he’s like a puppy; wants to meet everyone and poke ‘em with his nose.”

In the meantime I spotted a window of opportunity on the board and felled one of Navin’s pawns with my own smirk showing through. Then I crossed my arms over the table. Navin smiled a little at my move. “So I’ve talked a bit about myself, but I’ve heard nothing from you.”

“Hah…..”

“So where do you work?” I questioned, a question that had been on my mind for some time. Work is life after all, work defines you.

Navin sank back against the seat with his hands folded in his lap. “Well Terence, you know I was never good in school. I work as a security guard at the bank. I’m also doin’ a secretarial course on the side. I live alone, just managin’ to scrape by.”

“Don’t your parents-?”

“My parents don’t care about me Terence.”

“Oh,” I blanked. Now I knew I was privileged and felt ashamed of my fancy clothes and fortunate life. I couldn’t imagine a life where my parents didn’t love and support me, where my mom didn’t pester me and insist on doing everything for me.

“Yeah life sucks,” Navin said raising his eyebrows, for himself mostly. In the end he dismissed his troubles. “What about you? I’d like to hear some happy things if you don’t mind.”

I’m sure he didn’t say that to make me feel worse about my life, but it did. He’d become quite the smooth talker, able to manipulate and direct conversations. I scratched at the back of my head. “Well there’s not much to say. I work in the stock market and do a bit of accounting on the side. I’m busy with some community projects. Doin’ good…….good…..I’m lookin’ to move out within the next two years.” I made a momentary smile. “My parents are pestering me to get a girlfriend.”

“You never had one?” Navin asked in astonishment. 

“Not officially no. I’ve been on dates and got somethin’ going, but I kept breaking it off.”

“Why?” Navin awed with a hand lightly slapping the table. As if I were a football game, or rather he was rooting for me.

I shrugged with my hands clasped on the table. “We never clicked. There was always just…..something missing.” A pause. Our surroundings, the lights, the cigarette smoke, the alternatively dressed men playing pool, it compelled both of us to reveal too much about ourselves. “To be honest I……Many times I feel so so alone. I’m so busy every day, but when I try to go to sleep I feel like my life has no meaning.”

Navin nodded and looked at the floor before tipping his gaze back up to me. I realised he knew how that felt.

“I get that too. Feel it all the time. Many times I wish I was a simple person who didn’t philosophize about life.” Navin picked up his glass, but upon seeing it was empty shrugged and set it down again. The movement let his tattoo come back into my focus again.

It was at that moment that his shoe brushed against my leg and stayed there. I ignored it, thinking he didn’t notice. “I’d be grateful even for a few dates. I’d love to afford one at a fancy restaurant. You know moonlight, candles, violin. You buy someone a great night. It shows you have something to bring to the table.”

“I guess so.” My senses startled as I felt Navin’s shoe brush up against me, like a sort of twitch. I thought it was an accident. But he still stayed against my leg.

“What’s your idea of a perfect girl?” he asked curiously with a bit of a dreamy expression, his hand propping up his chin.

I shrugged and huffed a little. “I honestly don’t know. Whenever I think I have a type I get attracted to the complete opposite. So I can’t really say. But definitely, someone who understands me. Some people can love you, but they’ll never be able to understand you.”

My gaze froze as Navin made a slide with his shoe up my calf. It couldn’t have been an accident, nor a passive twitch. It was deliberate.

“I completely agree,” he nodded in jest. “Too many people are stuck with someone who says they love them, but who doesn’t understand at all.”

My gaze remained fixed on Navin’s nonchalant and inexpressive face as he made another slide, up and down, and continued, up and down, stroking. What was happening under the table turned the ice in my stomach into heat that boiled up and radiated out from my face to make it fume.

“I- I- I want to be careful not to fall into that trap.” His shoe was still there, stroking. “My parents are old fashioned so of course they want me to get married soon. But I’m not gonna be their doormat.”

And then Navin did something more deliberate, and even more shocking. He wrapped his shoes around my ankle, holding it hostage. My leg went limp in his hold and my stomach lurched. “Good,” he nodded. “But you know, sometimes give yourself the rewards you deserve. If a girl’s horny and wants to jump you, you should follow along. Sex feels good. It’s a nice way to de-stress. And it’s a privilege if you get the opportunity so don’t let it pass you by.”

My face fumed and my eyes could only stare straight ahead at his lips. He was saying something else, I can’t remember what, because what was happening under the table distracted me. All I could think about was: ‘Oh God I can’t take this I can’t take this. What do you want me to do? What do you want?!’ He stroked up my ankle so that my trousers rode up and exposed my skin to the air, which now felt scalding against my skin. He even shifted his legs forward more so his calf nearly intertwined with mine. I kept looking at his expression for some acknowledgment about what was going on, something to free me from this limbo. But as he kept talking, about rewards, and girls, and sex and how I deserve to be happy in such a miserable world, I understood that what was happening under the table was in a world of its own, that should be left undisturbed and only observed.

What was his game? What were his intentions? What did he make of my stiff posture and my face so dangerously red? I felt how the boundary between our civilised talk above and the intimate touches below, was so thin you could cut it with a butter knife. But I came to a most strange and unusual conclusion: despite the situation feeling dangerous, I was fine with this. I didn’t try to pull away, and didn’t want him to retreat exactly. So I figured I must like it on some level. Definitely I anticipated what he would do next.

“Terence?”

“What?” I startled and shook my head a little to clear my focus. 

“I asked if you wanted to meet up here sometimes. You know drink, relax a little? I think you need it.”

I hesitated for a moment. Agreeing would be opening to door to who knows what. Did I really want to with our current situation? 

“S- sure. We should.” My answer only cemented my participation in Navin’s game, whatever he was playing. That’s when Navin released my foot from his hold, and I took the opportunity to get away. “Um, I need to pee. All that Gin and Tonic sure did a number on me,” I smiled as I got up quickly. I felt Navin’s eyes watch me closely on my way to the bathroom.

I peed, and then lingered with washing my hands in the sink. I splashed my face to maybe tame the heat radiating out, and undid the buttons of my coat and the first two of my shirt to relieve me of the stuffiness. I looked at my tan face and strawberry-blond hair in the mirror, my face and the front of my hair marked by droplets. I was still beet red. 

Did I still want to continue with this game? What even is this? In my heart I knew that I couldn’t interpret Navin’s actions as anything other than sexual in nature. I didn’t want to accept it, but the only logical conclusion I could come to was that Navin, was a homosexual. That or he was mentally insane. 

That undeniable fact both disturbed and intrigued me. If he was a homosexual what did that make me? Me who played along with his game? I wasn’t a homosexual, I was certain of it. 

But this, this made me feel more alive than I’d ever felt in the past ten years. I thought: ‘Why shouldn’t I follow this feeling? See where it takes me? And then I’ll deal with the consequences when I come to cross that bridge’.


	3. Chapter 3

I exited the bathroom and tried to look as normal as possible, but it manifested as looking too cheerful, fake. And that’s when I panicked and decided to bail. I needed to process he eventful night properly.

Once I reached our table I announced. “I wish I could stay longer but it’s getting late.” I looked at the chess board. “And listen you would’ve won fair and square.”

“Aww next time we’ll finish our game and see.”

We reached the entrance where Navin stopped to light another cigarette. I lingered, waiting for him to mention something about what happened, intentionally positioning myself where the wind blew the smoke. I liked the smell by now, it almost intoxicated me. But to my frustration he didn’t acknowledge anything and just said: “So I guess this is where we part. Goodbye and goodnight. Or, do you want me to walk you to the car?”

“N-no. No thanks I can manage.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye,” I replied, and we both started walking our separate ways.

But I didn’t get far. About to cross the street, a car passed at full speed over a puddle and splashed me with water.

“Ohhh. Shit!” I heard Navin cry out. I could only stay unmoving like a statue, dirty street water dripping from my soaked hair onto my wet coat. I mumbled a ‘shit’ too as I processed what just happened.

Navin had snuffed his cigarette and approached me with a concerned look. “My apartment’s not far from here. Do you wanna get cleaned up there?”

“I’d be grateful…….” I mumbled, disappointed at the state of my coat the most, and in general feeling awful and in desperate need of a wash from the cold street water that soaked me and made me itch and squirm.

I didn’t see the point of complaining and just followed Navin silently with a somewhat grim expression on my grimy face. But of course that was only a front for how my mind mostly concerned itself with what had happened at the bar and the nature of Navin’s intentions. An ugly thought came to me, of Navin’s intentions being malicious at their core. What if he planned to rape or murder me? Or both?

It manifested as a joke. “Hey once we get to your apartment, you’re not gonna tie me up and chop my body into little pieces are you?”

“No! Of course not! I’ll season you and ground you up into sausages instead.”

I lifted my head in laughter, both of us laughing. I was really starting to like his sense of humour. I felt the chemistry flaring; making me feel as if I’d known Navin for ages. And the fear of some possible bad intentions lessened. I trusted him.

Shivering with my feet squishing in my shoes I followed Navin to the poorer, dirtier part of the city. I felt a little threatened by the grime, the black puddles, the rats scuttling about, and the dangerous shadows under failed street lights. In fact it was mostly moonlight that illuminated the darks streets, a full moon I discovered as I looked to the black sky. But somehow, I felt privileged that I was witnessing Navin’s world. At least no one could say I was one of those rich snobs who’d never set foot in places like this.

I followed Navin to his apartment building and up a flight of stairs. He switched on the light and closed the door behind me. My attention lingered on his security guard jacket and hat hanging from a hook. Further in the apartment, it looked a little bare bones. A couch and coffee table made the living room with a small TV, a record player and radio sitting in the corner. Some CDs lay in various places. A kitchen, a bathroom. As Navin lit up the rest of the place and I shuffled further inside, I took a look into Navin’s bedroom which also doubled as a study. A couple of course books and papers were on the desk, some band posters plastered on the wall. And curiously enough, fitting really: a guitar placed carefully against the bed.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” I commented, almost upset at not knowing this about Navin as if he were an old friend that I should have known well.

A small window gave a view to the street below tinged yellow with the street lights and allowing the ambience of cars to sound through. Leaning towards it I began to peel off my sticky coat, and felt the surprise of Navin’s hands helping me. “I also try to write songs. But you know how it goes, you get nowhere.” He gesticulated, “Shower’s that way. I’ll try and clean your clothes as best I can.”

Relief as the water started up and ran down to clean me from the asphalt dust and grit. The bristly sound of a brush sounded beyond the shower curtain as Navin set hard to work on my clothes. Though the situation proved a little uncomfortable, I felt that I couldn’t thank him enough, that I had to find some way to repay him.

I squeezed a glob of shampoo on my hand and began to lather my hair thoroughly, grey drops running down my body from the dirt that had gotten in there. A few times I instinctively turned around to face the shower curtain, looking into the blue plastic to try and see Navin beyond scrubbing away at my coat. I heard the brush pause sometimes as my back was turned, and the thought that he might be trying to take a peek both excited and unnerved me.

I thought of the movie Psycho, the moment where Norman Bates stabs Marion in the shower, with screeching violins and all. I chuckled at the ridiculous comparison.

“What’s so funny in there?”

I turned a little red. “Nothing!” ‘He better not come in here,’ I thought. Would he ever do that? I didn’t know. A few of my old high school friends had been the subject of those kinds of rumours over the years, of homosexuality, and they grew to become quite respectable people.

But I certainly didn’t want to just come out while he was still there, and lingered a little under the water. Finally I heard the scrubbing stop. “I’m done!” I announced.

“Okay. Here’s something while your clothes dry.”

A brown trousers and underwear appeared above me on the shower railing. I looked them over sceptically, but they were clean. As I slipped on the boxers I felt them to be a little big around the……package area. And that diverted my train of thought down a rabbit hole about Navin’s size.

Okay. Let’s calm down......

I put on the trousers but was still shirtless, but it was fine in the warm apartment.

I stepped out of the shower to see Navin scrubbing the grey stains on my coat with a brush, my shirt, trousers and underwear hung on the hooks to dry. He’d rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, exposing the full tattoo on that arm that I’d been yearning to see. A fern leaf, tinged green, starting from the elbow and ending on the top of his hand where the knuckles started. It looked beautiful on his pale skin, classy. Nothing like the typical tattoo of someone who just wanted to look tough. I knew it must mean something personal to him.

Navin brushed off the water on the surface of my coat and displayed it. “All gone. Once I had a jacket ruined by street water. I learned from that.”

However, now that I saw his other arm without obstructions, I spotted something unnerving. Four or five, neat, horizontal scars. Clearly self-inflicted. I flicked my eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t catch me looking. Was that the reason for the tattoo? Maybe his arm looked worse under all that ink?

He looked over the coat. “It’s so fancy and water-resistant. I wish I had one like it.”

“Thank you so much for fixing it up. I honestly wouldn’t have known what to do with it. I’d just give it to my mum.”

He laughed, and then turned serious in the blink of an eye, and then casual again. “I think you rely too much on your mom. While we wait for your clothes to dry, do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Sure.”

And so at two o’clock in the morning I was sitting in a shabby apartment that belong to my classmate who I barely knew, watching him dash about in the kitchen out of view with just the flicker of a cooker flame in sight.

Finally he brought out two steaming mugs of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and set them on the coffee table. “Grub’s up.”

I knew that with the time he took, it couldn’t have been one of those instant hot chocolate packets, but the great taste still surprised me. “Mmm. How is this so good?”

“I put vanilla and cream. I value my hot chocolate. If I’m gonna have hot chocolate I want it to be good.”

“Mmm. Your special way.”

Then I watched in astonishment as Navin downed his hot chocolate as if it were beer, whipped his mouth with a napkin and lit a cigarette. So much for valuing hot chocolate. “Oh sorry. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” I’m telling you I’d grown to like those cherry-scented cigarettes. Of course with his forearm holding up the lighter, I caught his tattoo in full detail again, and couldn’t help myself. “It’s beautiful.”

“What? Oh this. Yeah I agree. It’s classy. But don’t credit me, credit the artist. Real poetic and gentle soul that one.” Navin got up and started to pace restlessly, which he wouldn’t have if he’d treated his hot chocolate properly. He went to the radio in the corner, but when he turned it on all that came out was static. He gave it a light slap on top. “Damn thing’s broken. I’ll see if I can fix it later. Do you want me to play some music?” He pointed to the record player. “Help us pass the time?”

“What if you played your guitar?” I blurted out, realising only after how personal the request was. In fact Navin looked surprised. “Sorry it’s a silly idea.”

“No no. I can’t say no to you anyway.” He went to his room and came out with the guitar, and positioned himself on the couch with his fingers at the strings. “You want me to sing too,” he guessed, looking down at the strings bashfully.

“Only if you want to.”

He smiled shyly at me. “I want to. Because, no one’s ever been interested in me like this.”

I understood then that I was the exception, that he was making himself look vulnerable just for me, and I felt privileged that I could witness it.

Navin started up a gentle tune, his fingers just plucking the strings. He didn’t look me in the eye, completely absorbed in the sway of the song. “I feel so extraordinary, something’s got a hold on me……”

It was a song I knew from somewhere, though not very well. I certainly didn’t love it, not until Navin started singing it.

If someone told me how my night would end up I wouldn’t have believed them. I rested my hand on my chin listening to Navin’s voice, soft when he wanted it to be, so soft that I could dose off. My eyes fluttered a lot, his gaze occasionally flickered to my face, which I received with full openness.

“I used to think that the day would never come…..” He ended on a little brush on the high notes, signaling the end of the song that had hypnotized me. He put the guitar down against the couch.

We sat in silence for a while under the light of the apartment. I made another yawn and looked to my clothes drying off in the bathroom, then back to my nearly finished hot chocolate. Navin’s voice cut through the little space.

“You know I’m sorry I made that comment about your mom,” he started, and when I looked at him I noticed his forlorn expression. “It’s good that your mom cares so much about you. My mom kicked me out.”

“Why?” I questioned. What bad things did he do so even his own mother hated him?

“She never loved me, never wanted me. And I failed school. She kicked me out after I finished school. I coped with everything by smoking weed, and then I went on ecstasy, and then I quit both cold turkey. And mind you, my brother was a much worse son; came home drunk or high demanding money. But to my parents I was the worst. Yeah life fuckin’ sucks.”

I scooted a little closer. “Gee I…..don’t know what to say Navin. I don’t know how I can help. If- if you need some course books I can get ‘em for you. I could ask around for jobs-“

Navin stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and a scoot closer. “That’s swell and I’m grateful, but don’t waste your time and money on me. The bulk of the work belongs to me.” His eyes emptied a little from their spark and he suddenly gave me a questioning look. “And I don’t know what I’m working for anymore.”

His hand left my shoulder but our bodies remained locked towards each other, and a heavy silence accumulated, heavy and electrifying like storm clouds. We looked openly and deeply into each other’s eyes, seized by their beauty and difference: mine blue and his brown. Our faces were getting closer, and I couldn’t tell who was leaning forward.

When we got too close for comfort, too close to call it an accident, Navin suddenly drew away with a sharp breath and looked to my clothes. “Your clothes must be dry let’s take a look,” he said quickly and went to them.

I let out some breath that I didn’t realise I was keeping and went up on my shaky feet, but only shuffled.

“Yep they’re dry. You can go put them on.” He left the bathroom and I entered and closed the door for some privacy.

I dressed slowly, taking my time with my trousers and shoes. What just happened in there? What was that? How much did it relate to those touches under the table? The Navin I knew from my high school days was being driven out more and more by minute. More frighteningly, I was starting to lose track of myself. What was I doing here? In the apartment of a classmate who I hadn’t seen in years? Drinking late into the night without phoning my mom?

I worked on my shirt buttons with clumsy fingers, because most of my energy and awareness had been diverted to my jumbled thoughts. But finally I buttoned the last one and tucked my shirt in.

I couldn’t make sense of the strangeness of the situation, and how I was getting more stranger and more unknown even to myself. And so a need for escape bubbled over. I needed to get out of here.

I hastily picked up the coat and walked out, barely looking at Navin. “I REALLY have to go. My mom’s probably worried sick about me,” I said while trying and failing to slip on my coat.

“Here let me help.” Without exactly meaning to I let Navin guide the sleeve. His hands stayed, and I let them, let him button my three coat buttons bottom-up, until he came to the last one at my collar. I didn’t know if he realised how intimate his actions were, but he sure looked concentrated and serious about it.

“There now you’re all set.” His hands tugged a bit at my lapel to smoothen it out. His hands stayed, and I looked down at his unreadable expression, so close to mine. I detected the analogy between our current predicament and the one on the couch, and at the bar, and especially connected Navin’s participation in all three.  
There was nothing innocent about this.

He looked up into my eyes, deliberate and daring. My lungs were starting to hurt from my lack of breathing, and I made no move out of fear that it might break and disjoint our connection. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to play along with this game of his, and possibly win it.

Our faces were so unbearably close, and I couldn’t help but glance down at his lips. He did so at me as well.

I couldn’t help myself. I whispered, “Navin? Why did your mom really kick you out?”

I wasn’t really expecting an answer. Navin kept still for some moments before closing the distance between us, tugging slightly at my collar so my lips met his. 

In that moment I swear my heart truly came alive, thudding in my chest and roaring in my ears. Navin kissed my still lips chastely at first, just pressing, and I didn’t let a breath slip past mine. Then he started moving against my mouth, trying to move deeper like a cat pawing at you. I broke only a few millimetres to get a breath of air before I started to meet and anticipate his lips’ movements. He still gripped my collar, and I felt his potential strength. In the rising intensity I gripped his too. And soon we tried to press against each other, our arms and legs trying to see how we could fit together.

Ferocity gripped us both when Navin’s tongue darted out, insistent. And in response I started subtly pushing him around by the collar until his back thudded lightly against the wall. I wanted to give him payback for all those intimate touches, holding my ankle hostage beneath the table and unable to say anything out of social convention.

But like at the bar, he was one step ahead of me, and in a flash undid the four buttons of my coat that I’d just put on.

That brought me back to reality, made me aware of the gravity of our situation. What was I doing? Where was this heading?

I flew back, disconnecting from his embrace and plunging back into cold air. “Stop! Stop.” I blurted out. “I’m not gay!” The one thing I deemed essentially to say. My heart still thumped through my ears, but Navin kept calm through the faster rise and fall of his chest.

“No one said you were……” he breathed. “You can like both. But didn’t you say there was always something missing with women?” He put his hands in his pockets, so infuriatingly casual.

But I had to accept my feelings sooner or later. “Okay well- but- It’s not men. It’s just……you,” I gasped. Yes, as much as I had trouble accepting, Navin had that kind of effect on me.

He scoffed in surprise. “Huh. Never thought I’d be good enough to change someone like that.” He yawned and turned serious, and I had to stifle a yawn too. “We don’t need to sort this out now. We had a little too much to drink. The night can do things to some people. It’s best that we both get to sleep. Don’t you think?”

I nodded hurriedly, now itching to escape. Without another word I opened the door and started heading down the stairs. “Wait!” I called, and went up again just as he was about to close. “What’s your phone number?” I asked meekly, nervous. Because just the prospect of having to confront this the next morning hurt.

Without a word Navin went inside to give me a little slip of paper. “Here.” We both stood still, I under him on the stairs. “Good night,” he nodded curtly and closed the door.

I emerged from the apartment building in a hurry and with my hands in my pockets. My breath vaporised in the still night air. Soon the sun would be up. My thoughts reeled and jumbled and I just wanted to have a good night’s sleep. My head pounded with all that had happened and how my worried mother was waiting for me at home.

At the break of dawn I inserted my keys into the door and stepped inside, swaying with exhaustion. I nearly collapsed against the corridor wall, reeling from the crazy night and my kisses with Navin. When I heard my mother come down I immediately straightened up as much as I could.

“Terence where have you been?!” she cried in her sleeping gown.

I blinked my red eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t call I had a crazy night. I got washed by street water and had to go to a friend’s house.” I blushed a little at the recent memories, momentarily afraid that she could tell that hands had touched me and lips had kissed me.

She did not care about my excuses, and came close to me to sternly warn me: “Don’t you ever do that again. At least call and let us know. I was worried sick about you! I didn’t know if you’d gotten into an accident-“

“Yes I’m sorry,” I yawned. “I just wanna get some sleep.” I started trudging up to my bedroom, and when I made it I collapsed onto the bed.

I slept with my outside clothes still on, my shoes on the mattress that could earn me a scolding. I didn’t care. I craved sleep, and the cherry-scented smoke that stuck to my coat relaxed me to the point of unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

I slept until four in the afternoon, Saturday, where the sudden consciousness of the real world and what I had to confront almost pained me. I rolled over and felt a little crackle of paper. I sat up and felt for the paper in my coat pocket, and looked at the number. 

I thought ‘I must not procrastinate. I gotta do this’.

At least my parents were out, and I gave the excuse that I had some work to do after a whole night partying and a whole day wasted by sleep. I needed that time to encourage myself to pick up the telephone.

But unfortunately Navin wasn’t finished with me yet, even if he was elsewhere. In the bathroom as I got ready for the day, well the rest of it at least, I paused from brushing my teeth when I saw my underwear in the mirror. With my toothbrush lax in my frothy mouth, I realised they weren’t mine. They were Navin’s. Too big. I’d forgotten to change my underwear again back at his place, which meant he still had mine. 

Oh how embarrassing……

But by now, I thought I might as well get used to it. I knew I had to go through more embarrassment and more discomfort if I wanted resolution.

After sorting myself out, then came the dreaded telephone. I looked at the buttons for some time before dialing and holding the clunky receiver against my ear, hoping Navin would answer.

The line rang for some time before an incredibly dull ‘Hello?’ rang through.

“Hi. Navin.” My throat squeezed from the nervousness and produced a higher pitch. “Are we……gonna talk about what happened yesterday?”

Navin said nothing for a while, as if he’d forgotten the previous night that had been so life-changing, so world-toppling for me. It almost made me jealous. Certainly it threw me off.

“Sure come in the morning,” he said before cutting. I stared at the phone, surprised and not knowing what to think. He didn’t specify a time, and I assumed he did not go to Sunday mass.

Later in the day as my mother was looking through the linen basket, she called: “Terence who’s are these?” And I came down and she showed me the underwear Navin gave me.

“They’re from that friend. I got soaked with street water so……” I didn’t continue, she didn’t ask. And I gladly left it.

Sunday morning came with its Sunday sounds: birds chirping, bells peeling and neighbours chatting. I went to mass early, telling my parents I had to go see a friend. And as I came out from the church I thought: ‘How can I make things better? How can I make things less awkward?’ 

The answer to that: pastries. My family always brought pastries whenever we visited someone.

I stopped by a quaint pastry shop downtown. I looked over the scrumptious cakes, pies and flans in the display. When my eyes landed on the apple pie my mind took me back to my high school days.

Navin always asked for a second helping of apple sauce at the school cafeteria, and sometimes he got a no from the lunch lady out of concern for his teeth.

I smiled at the memories. “Two chocolate donuts and two apple pie please.”

Walking those same downtown streets, they held a different quality in the daylight. On one hand I could see the grime and filth in more detail, see it in the whole of its disgust. But the night gave it all a more mysterious and dangerous quality.

Maybe that’s what happened to me and Navin. The night inspired such imagination and superstition within people since the dawn of history; inspiring tales of monsters, werewolves and the grip of the full moon. And more recently, it built the scaffolding for a deeper look into the mind. People certainly became different at night. Revealed more, did things they wouldn’t do in the daylight. And certain activities were less awkward when concealed by darkness.

And this was the effect without alcohol in the mix. Combine the shadows and bright lights of the night with heavy drinking and it might as well become a fantasy land with limitless possibilities.

But many times, what happened in the night, stays in the night. Specifically in cases of forbidden love. I thought, should me and Navin leave the night alone? Pretend the whole thing never happened for both our sakes?

I reached the apartment block, and as I climbed the stairs I kept looking into the textures of the yellow, peeling walls as if searching for something only visible if you looked hard enough.

With the box of pastries and the underwear folded under them I raised a hand to ring the doorbell. But my hand didn’t reach the surface as I realised the bell had rusted and been pulled out of its socket with wires exposed, something I hadn’t noticed last night. I made do with a gentle knock on the door. The daylight was exposing many new things. Even the door looked worse than I remember.

I shifted in my red coat. It wasn’t my favorite, I preferred blue, but I thought I’d wear it for the occasion. Maybe I was trying to recreate the mystery and passion of the other night.

Navin opened the door ajar, only enough for his head to poke out. And he remained like that, cautious even as he saw his friend Terence bearing pastries.

I noticed his eyes droopy with sleep. “You can come in,” he said after some delay, and I made my way into the apartment and closed the door. The security guard jacket and hat caught my eye again in their usual spot.

I followed Navin lighting a cigarette in the kitchen. First things first: “Um, here’s your underwear back,” I said and left the boxers on the nearby couch, where my own neat and clean underwear lay for pickup. Then I chirped happily, “I brought you some pastries,” trying to correct the mood. 

But when I set the box down on the table Navin made no move to open it and instead leaned back against the counter, smoking. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying the tattoo, as well as the scars. But the inky fern leaf looked even more beautiful in the daylight, contrasting against his pale skin. 

“Thanks you didn’t have to. Are you trying to say sorry for what happened? It’s my fault.”

“Well the whole thing started cause I was about to cross the road so carelessly. I’m trying to make things less awkward.” I picked out my keys from my pocket to fiddle with them.

Navin blew out a puff of smoke. “I guess it’s both our faults,” he said, trying to subtly acknowledge the elephant in the room. “But mostly mine. We should forget about it.”

At first I was slightly upset that he didn’t admit what happened under the bar table, and then I caught his last words. ‘No’ my mind rebelled. I wanted to feel those alive feelings again. “Why?”

Navin sputtered out his words and waved his cigarette around as if the reason was so gravely obvious. “Because we live in a society Terence! What are you gonna do if your parents find out? I mean I don’t really have parents. And what if it gets to your boss and he fires you?”

“But- but some things are worth the risk no?”

Navin went quiet and softened, his cigarette dangling and releasing small whisps of smoke. He must have realised how deeply I cared for him. “You have a lot to lose. I don’t have much to lose.”

“I’ve always played life on the safe side, I need some risk. And even if I lose some things, that doesn’t mean I’ll never get them back. It’s not the end of the world.”  
I’d caught him unawares. “You’d take those risks for me?”

I nodded, glad he was finally understanding my intentions. “Yeah. I- I like you very much Navin.”

Navin made something between a scoff and a laugh. “You think you do. No one’s ever wanted me in that way. And how can you be so sure? We just met yesterday! This isn’t a Disney movie.”

“We’ve known about each other for years, in high school. We saw each other’s punishments and rewards, we know what we used to eat at the cafeteria, we know what grades we got. I think that’s a good base don’t you think?” Then I suddenly got an epiphany, my expression turning a little accusing. “And- and how did you know I’d just accept what you were doing to me under that table? You’re telling me to leave it when you started it.” Oh it felt good to finally say that it happened out loud. “If it were any other guy I think he’d punch you right in the face. It freaked me out and I didn’t know what to do.”

Navin winced a little, blushing and twiddling with the cigarette. “You’re right, it wasn’t my finest moment. I was testing you out.”

“See you admit it!”

“Yes. I wanted to test if you were really interested.”

“But how did you get the hunch in the first place?” I questioned.

Navin shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “You can tell sometimes. It’s the way someone looks at you, how they pay attention to you. Of course it’s all arbitrary. And it could, have ended with me getting punched in the face.”

After some silence Navin moved to open the pastry box, and his face turned sweet as the pastries inside.

“I remembered how you always wanted double apple sauce at school. Hope you like it.”

“I do, looks delicious,” he nodded. But just as his hand touched the wrapping under the apple slice he drew back as if he didn’t feel the right to eat it. He looked back to me. “Terence, I’m not boyfriend material. I failed school, which I really regret now. I didn't’ have any friends or social skills until I was like, twenty-one.

I couldn’t help but go and put my hands on his shoulders and stop him from devaluing himself like that. “Navin. Maybe let me decide if you’re......boyfriend material.” The words sounded strange on my lips, in the life I had led until now, but I was adapting.

He continued: “I feel like there’s two sides of me. One talks to people and parties and drinks all night, and the other likes to have a breakdown and wonder what I’m doin’ with my life and what the Hell the meaning of life is.”

I moved my hands to his cheeks to cup his face gently, and his brown eyes softened so much, melting under my touch. “And I want to embrace all your parts. Maybe you can summon that part of you that wants to give me a chance?” I probed, hopeful.

His skin blushed under my hands as a shy smile shone. He placed his hand on top of mine. “Of course. I’ll give you a chance.” He paused before lighting up. “And what happened with your little crisis of sexuality? You still straight with an exception?”

I beamed and nodded. “Yes. You’re my exception.” I gave him a peck on the lips in my intense feelings of affection. “You are my ultimate exception. God since the moment I met you again, you’ve made me feel so happy, so alive.”

“Chill down, we spent six hours total together I think. But I feel honoured. And I suppose I can’t keep that goodness from you.”

I patted him lightly on the cheek and drew away. “That’s the spirit. Now are you ever gonna eat that apple pie?”

Navin did relax a little and start eating. We were quite the sight, completely opposite; me eating the messy donuts on the couch and Navin pacing and talking while prodding his apple pie on a little plate with a dessert fork. He’d turned completely casual again, with his every step shaking off an energy from within him.

“Obviously after they found those porn magazines they hated me even more. And since then they brought it up all the time.”

“Jesus.”

“You know the rest. Me and my brother we’re both failures. But since I was the gay one I was the bigger failure.”

In tune with his casualness about the whole affair I licked the chocolate glaze from my fingers before cleaning with a tissue. Meanwhile Navin with his constant talk had barely made a dent in his apple pie.

“So there’s somethin’ else I need to tell you if we’re gonna be boyfriends. It’s important,” he began after scoffing down a nibble. And he held the hand with the fork out in self-defense. “I was at a low point in my life, but I don’t regret it.”

“It’s alright I’ll try not to judge.”

And he blurted it all out while nodding unashamed: “I lost my virginity to a male prostitute at twenty-one. And we didn’t do it just once either we did it loads of times. And we tried a lot of different things too.”

I started to blush heavily. How fast did I want this to go?

“But then we got tired of it and now we’re just friends. His name’s Ivan. I did it cause again; I didn’t think anyone would ever want me in that way.” Navin finally slowed down and took the opportunity to have another bit of pie and think. And then he looked up again and asked hesitantly, “It doesn’t bother you too much does it?”

I shook my head, mostly to sort out my own muddled thoughts, and got up to wash my hands at the sink. “No it doesn’t.” I dried my hands. “But you know what does?” I proposed, and went up to Navin, getting in his face until our lips almost touched. “What you did in the bar.” I started fingering his shirt collar. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get back at you…….but I still want......retribution.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the weeks that followed the weather warmed up a bit. We took every opportunity to spend time together, and we truly had to struggle to carve out the time within our busy schedule.

I became acquainted with Navin’s buddies, a little circle of three people that he’d connected with over the years. This included Ivan, where we resolved the awkwardness pretty quickly. And Jerry, who’s voice seemed less and less unusual the more time I spent at High’s Low’s. That bar soon became my little haven, an escape from the rigidity and expectations of my larger social world.

Every day I learned something surprising about Navin, and every day I thought about how I’d thrown away so many opportunities to talk with him during my high school days. And since he was always quiet and isolated, he became almost invisible to the rest of the school. And so he’d accumulated a lot of secret knowledge about my classmates that he revealed only to me. Bruno sweet-talked and pursued shy Moira just to get into her panties, Justin used steroids in his junior year, the fire alarm wasn’t an accident but a hardcore prank by Enoch.

Navin did not try any more of his games, but I sensed it was mostly not to make me uncomfortable. During our passionate kisses under foggy street lights that could lead to more orgasmic ends, he would suddenly stop and turn chaste in the blink of an eye. 

Me on the other hand, I wanted more. I picked up some gay porn magazines at a store near High’s Low’s to learn and expand my imagination. Of course I couldn’t keep them at home, so when no one was looking at work I put them through the paper shredder.

I wanted to move further with Navin, but he seemed afraid of pushing my boundaries after somewhat violating them so early on. I still wanted payback for that, he wasn’t getting away with it. So I came up with a plan to hit two birds with one stone.

It started as a fairly usual night at High’s Low’s. Me and Navin with Jerry and two others got our drinks served, the high frothy beer spilling over the sides. Our barman smiled and said, “It’s on the house tonight.” And me and Navin grinned back and forth bashfully. Jerry even remarked: “You’re a happy couple now of course you deserve it.”

Sitting elbow to elbow this time opened us to a range of possibilities. At first I did nothing particularly impactful; I pressed my thigh and leg against Navin’s. Nothing unusual within our established relationship. At one point I also wove an arm around his neck and let our torsos press together. Only I used the opportunity to let my hand slide down to his side and rest on his hip, unobservable since we were seated in the corner. I didn’t detect any signs of discomfort, which meant I had to try harder.

Casually, I slipped my fingers under his belt at the hipbone, playing and tugging at it. The fact that he made no attempt to stop me signalled his participation in the game.

I backed up my hand and placed it on his thigh where it met his torso. Slowly I inched down over his round flesh to the inside of his thigh where it met his groin. He made a noticeable move to close his legs but then shifted back to his lied back position with his knees spread. He was playing alright.

But infuriatingly, no redness or any sign of distress coloured his face. I wanted people to get a hunch, to notice something was wrong, for Navin to feel just a bit of the embarrassment and conflict that I had felt.

I made a decision to try and get under his belt. As I started fondling down there he made a silent plea to stop by placing his hand over mine. But not firm enough, signalling that on some level he wanted it to continue.

Navin let his hand glide with mine twice before he bucked his hips and then with a hard grip on my wrist pulled it back. “Excuse me gents but I really need to pee,” he announced. And they were none the wiser.

I accepted it as a way of giving in, as acknowledgment that I had won this round. After about five minutes of Navin’s absence I excused myself too.

I searched the gents’ bathroom. In retrospect, they kept the place quite clean. When I arrived to the last stall Navin appeared and all but dragged me in.

My back and head hit the frame as his body pushed against me, his lips assaulting me with force and clashing our teeth together.

Our of breath he said, “I’ll admit you won back there, but I promise you, you won’t win the next round.” His lips trailed harsh biting stops down my neck, leaving me breathless too. “Because I already got a lot of experience, and you’re still a virgin.”

Continuing to nuzzle and kiss me, his hand descended to start stroking me. And I didn’t know where to put my hands, keeping one flat on the door and the other gripping his hip. “That was- Ah! One person! How much ‘experience’ can you get with- one person?”

Navin stopped and straightened up. “I’ll show you in due time. Come on let’s calm down and leave. I don’t want your first time to be in a dirty bathroom.”

“I was just gonna say,” I gasped. “Yeah cause you’re a respectable gentleman. Maybe next time right?” I joked.

We made out brisk walk home without incident, Navin’s home that had become my home too in recent weeks. Quite different than my parents’ place governed by their rules and the rules of polite society. Only in Navin’s home could I walk around in my underwear, could I accidentally burn a pancake while learning to cook, could I do some crazy stunts and use a carrot as a microphone while Navin played music on the record player.

A full moon saw us walk the streets and march to the apartment. We hastened up the stairs. I closed the door and like Navin hurriedly slipped off my light jacket and hung it. I hesitated with following Navin to the bedroom, my breath stuttering in my chest.

I suddenly felt intimidated. Did I really want to do this now? And go all the way?

“Terry you comin?” I heard Navin call. And then came to mine the little sacrifice of a special diet I’d followed for the past seventy-two hours. I didn’t want to let it go to waste. “Yeah comin’.”

I went into the bedroom to find Navin already undressed under the covers, waiting for me with a cheeky grin and a bottle of lubricant on the bedside table.  
“That was fast. You want my ass that badly don’t you?”

Navin scoffed in amusement and shrugged. “Eh. I could live without it. But can you live without my dick? That’s the question.” We burst into laughter and the ridiculousness of it all. It gave me a push of bravery to start unbuttoning my shirt, throwing it on the carpet. “One out of ten for a striptease,” Navin smirked, his hands raised and bent, casually holding the headboard in anticipation.

I didn’t say anything but I blushed. Determined to keep up with him, I did quick work of my trousers and shoes, and then pulled down my boxers and flung them away with one big swoop. “Ta da!”

Both our laughter rung out loud before diminishing as I crawled up the mattress. I climbed under the covers with Navin and we properly started wrestling our naked bodies, sliding together, our hips slotting perfectly, our groins rubbing so good and sparking a pleasure that made us dizzy with bliss.

I sat on top of his thighs and lifted my head up for some air. Meanwhile Navin reached for the lube. I internally acknowledge my heaving chest and pulsing body twitching in excitement, anticipating what was to come. But then……I spotted something that killed the mood entirely.

On Navin’s thigh, where the boxers always covered were some more horizontal scars.

I froze. I could not ignore the issue anymore. How could I have sex with him without knowing why he hurt himself and if he would do it again?

“Navin what are these?” My question cut like ice as I traced a finger down the bumps on his thigh.

Navin donned a shameful expression and left the lube alone. He just said, “I told you I was a very emotional teenager.”

“I know but why exactly did you do it? You never tell me details, about anything.”

“It’s not important right now,” he dismissed with a shake of his head, and pulled me in a little to resume our love-making.

“Yes, yes it is,” I insisted and slipped off him. “We’re not doing this until you tell me why you did it.” I lay against the headboard and crossed my arms. I’d been too liberal with Navin. Jumping into bed early, letting him dominate me in all his games.

Navin took out a cigarette and lighter from the drawer. 

“You’re gonna smoke now?! Stop smoking and talk to me!”

He jumped a little at my harsh tone and put his smoking equipment away. “Yeesh alright…..” Copying me he too crossed his arms, and pouted. It took several long seconds for him to give in. Staring straight ahead he started to narrate. “These I did them the day my parents found the magazines,” he said as he brushed a finger down the scars on his wrist. “The ones down there I did ‘em high on weed. I had a very bad trip.”

Then he displayed his tattooed arm. “The ones under here…..these were my first. Remember that time Bruno and his buddies jumped me in the hall and put glue in my hair?” His jaw was hard set in bitterness.

My eyes grew wide, emptied really, as I remembered the harrowing event. Because I had been there and worse still, we both remembered I was there. Me, talking and jeering with friends, Navin passing through the hallways as a barely noticeable blip in our attention. A flash of movement as the bullies jumped him, and squirted glue on his hair.

Everybody laughed. Including me, letting out some nervous laughter not to be the odd one out.

‘You dickhead!’ Navin had moped, in the way of a hurt and angry child. Bruno and co. continued to taunt him; ‘Retard’ ‘weirdo’ ‘your mom’s a whore,’ and Navin walked briskly in the direction of the bathrooms.

We were sixteen then, Navin quite different in his overgrown hair and frumpy clothes.

“I did them in the bathroom. I felt like it took the pain away. After the one with my parents, I had this idea that I wanted to cover my whole body in scars, so maybe…..maybe someone would care about my suffering.”

I didn’t want him to say more, couldn’t bear it, and wrapped my arms around him. “Jesus Navin I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t stand up for you. I care about your suffering. I care about you so much. I hate myself for not standing up for you.”

“This is why I didn’t want to bring it up. It’s in the past, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But I hate it that I never stood up for you. Especially that time. I can’t believe I actually laughed at you. Jesus what was I thinking? What were we all thinking? I’m not the same person anymore, I swear.”

“Too right. When you’re sixteen, you feel worse being alone than in bad company. I know I’d have done anything to have a friend back then. I would’ave, smoked weed and done ecstasy and vandalised and trespassed.”

“But then maybe you would’ve never met me. The slightest change and we might ‘ave, never bonded like this. Like a butterfly effect. Frankly I’m glad that car washed me.” Navin chuckled in amusement, a genuine smile taking root. I kissed him softly on the cheek so it would stay. “Navin? Do you think you’re ever gonna do it again? I gotta know if we’re gonna bump uglies.”

“No. I promise. I’m past that phase in my life. That’s why I’m getting tattoos to cover ‘em up. They’ll look pretty cool don’t you agree?”

I smiled with him. “I guess I could learn to love them all in due time.”

“Maybe worship them too?” He smirked.

“Don’t get too over your head,” I replied and kissed him on the lips, sliding on top of him again.

We fucked that night. Experimental, long, hard. In our little private corner that was Navin’s apartment, full of knick-knacks, where our ability to be ourselves pushed our whirlwind of troubles to background noise. And finally I got Navin where I wanted him from the very night we met again after so long; under me, unable to say no to my pleasure, completely at my mercy for his pleasure.

New Year’s 1999 arrived. Of course I flunked the promise with my former classmates, because there was someone worth more than all of them combined. With Navin and co. we could get crazier, louder, more wasted at an alternative music concert.

And the best thing? For the first time ever we could hug, kiss and caress and each other openly with the fireworks standing in as wedding bells.

Through the blasting music and hypnotic lights, holding a beer in one hand and with the other around Navin, we shouted: “Five, four, three, two, one!”

Under the music, the lights, the joyful screaming, we greeted the year 2000 and all its amazing things to come with a kiss.


End file.
